


Incorrigible

by SandraDeee



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: AU, F/M, Playboy!Ollie, Step-siblings, Taboo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-18
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2020-12-22 22:07:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21083852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SandraDeee/pseuds/SandraDeee
Summary: Felicity Smoak grew up with a front row seat to the cautionary taleWhat Not To Do For Love. Determined to not make the same mistakes as her mother, she avoided attachments that would distract her from meeting her goals. What she hadn’t counted on was meetinghim.Oliver Queen. Mr. Right Now, never Mr. Right. He didn’t believe in commitment, didn’t believe in love.  All he believed in was what felt good, and he was always honest about his bad intentions. Then he met her—smart, prim, a veritable ray of sunshine with an underlying heat he found himself desperate to unleash.He thought he’d blown his chance with her after a drunken encounter, but never let it be said fate doesn’t have a sense of humor. After all, not every guy gets a second chance to make a first impressionon his new step-sister.Also known as the one where Oliver’s dad marries Felicity’s mom, and trouble (and attraction) ensues.





	1. Loverboy

**Author's Note:**

> So . . . this story happened. 
> 
> It is so out of left field and so AU, it's just ridiculous, but I still hope you will come along for the ride and have fun. In full disclosure, I got the idea for the story while reading Colleen Masters's _Stepbrother Untouchable._ There are a couple of events in the early chapters of this story that are similar to that novel, but this is **not** a retelling of Masters's novel with just a change of the character names. _Incorrigible_ takes its own spin on a (taboo?) trope.  
Instead, Masters's story made me think about what would it be like if Felicity's mom had married Oliver's dad and the two were forced to interact under those circumstances. 
> 
> There are shades of the Oliver and Felicity we see on the show, but obviously this Oliver did not go through the five years of hell on the island, and he is more _Ollie_ than _Oliver_ at the beginning. Fair warning: Ollie will probably make you want to throw things at him (Felicity certainly will want to), but give him a chance. You won't be disappointed.

_Warmth. Delicious warmth._

_She was enveloped by him, overwhelmed. This was not something she did. She was not the type of girl who gave in to every whim, every craving. Yet she did not seek escape. Not from him. “I don’t even know you,” she marveled as she nuzzled his neck. “But I feel like…everything is about to change for us.”_

_“You are about to know me very well.” He laced his fingers through her blond hair that fell in waves over her shoulders. It was an act of possession and tenderness. With a breathy moan, she threw her head back, exposing the column on her throat to his eager, skilled lips. Warmth. Yearning. They warred within, mixing in a dangerous elixir of anticipation. _

_This was insane. Could she really trust him?_  
  
Then again, maybe the lack of trust was what made this all the more exciting.

_A shiver went through her as one hand stopped its massaging motion on her scalp and trailed down her body. Her breath hitched at the first teasing touch to her left breast._

_ "_ _I am going to take such good care of you. No regrets.”_

_“No regrets,” she repeated. _

_She watched his hands on her naked body, fascinated by the kneading of her flesh. When had she removed her clothes? Sparks skittered through her, and she ultimately decided that it didn’t matter. _

_“Feel with your body, not with your eyes.”_

_At that, her eyes fluttered closed, even as she could suddenly perceive so much more. The texture of his fingertips, the salty taste of his skin. His hand traveled downward over the soft swell of her hips, moving around to the soft curls that covered her most sensitive area. A quick brush of one calloused fingertip against her slick heat had her hissing in surprise and supreme pleasure. She could feel this—feel him—everywhere. And then something began to build within her as she urged him on.“Right there. Yes, right there. Don’t stop. Never stop, Loverboy.”_

Beep, beep, beep, beep, beep.

Under ideal circumstances, Felicity Smoak had trouble finding her cell phone, pinning the tail on the donkey, or locating her keys in the black hole disguised as her purse. However, when her alarm clock went off, she honed in on the snooze button from three feet away, even with her eyes closed, in 1.5 seconds flat _every_time. 

This morning, as she narrowly opened her bleary eyes to try to read the red digits on the alarm, she forced herself to shake off the last vestiges of her dream, ignoring the luxury of pushing the snooze button over and over again. It was ridiculous to have such vivid dreams about a man with whom she had never actually spoken. 

It had seemed so real, _achingly _real. The dull throbbing she felt was evidence of that.

_Two more weeks. Then it’ll be over_. 

Her strict study schedule had her starting to act like a zombie, minus the whole inconvenience of being dead/craving brains. No, what she really craved was coffee, perhaps even more than sleep itself. And who knew? Maybe when she went to Jitters, she would see him. _Loverly. _That was sure to awaken the rest of her senses.

_Loverboy _was how she always thought of the young man. Tall, sandy blond hair, vibrant blue eyes, and a grin that seemed to belie mischief of the worst possible kind. It was a terrible nickname, but it fit. Over the weeks of spotting him at Jitters, she had been able to suss out a few tidbits of information about him. First, his name was Ollie, unless he was one of those guys who gave a fake name to the barista for kicks (but really, who would choose _Ollie _of all names? _Brock Lee _or _Ben Dover _would suit that purpose much better.). Second, he attended Harvard, if the collegiate hoodie she noticed stretched across his broad, muscular shoulders last week was any indication. It was a respectable school, she had to begrudgingly admit, even if it wasn’t her soon-to-be _alma mater _MIT. Third, he had a soft spot for Mr. McIntyre, the old vet who sat on the sidewalk near the bus stop. That was actually what made her take notice of him to begin with. He made it a habit to buy the down-on-his luck fellow a hot coffee and breakfast. Fourth, the man was sex on a stick. Not that she knew from personal experience, of course, despite her sensation-inducing dreams. She merely extrapolated that last tidbit from the fact he was never in the coffee shop with the same girl twice and he moved like a panther, purposeful and confident, especially when his hand would dip below the table to stroke his female companion in a knowing way. Once, he had caught Felicity looking. Rather than being mortified at being caught in the process of feeling up the girl next to him, his blue eyes zoomed in on her, held her gaze the way a snake charmer captivates a cobra, and he winked at her. _Winked._

He was fascinating. While Felicity had no actual interest in being one in his string of many conquests, he certainly made her mornings more appealing and her dreams infinitely more interesting. It had even become a running joke with her roommates. _“Did you see _him_this morning?” “What’s Loverboy up to these days?” “Are those magic fingers still at work?” “Having sweet dreams?”_

Oddly, seeing him in the flesh was one of the things she would miss when she graduated. But if everything worked out the way she hoped it would, she would be moving across the country. She had submitted résumés to several high-profile companies, but it was the Queen Consolidated position that she really wanted, though she had nagging doubts they would consider her. Felicity knew she was smart. That was a no-brainer. She was a mere twenty years old and about to graduate with her Master’s degree, a rarity even among the intellectual elite at MIT. But other candidates for the job would be smart, too, and her youth could work against her. Someone with more life experience, more people skills, could easily walk away with the job.

_“You need to be more self-confident,” _her mom had told her on more than one occasion. That was easy for Donna Smoak to say. With her stunning looks and infectious personality, her mother knew how to turn strangers into friends in ten seconds flat. Felicity, on the other hand, knew how to make awkward situations more…awkward…in less than ten seconds.

First things first. She had to get through taking finals and defending her thesis. And like any great feats of epic proportions, that required coffee. She hurriedly showered, dressed in jeans and a plain black v-neck shirt, and pulled her damp hair into a ponytail before heading out the door with book bag in hand.

* * *

Jitters was only a five minute walk from where she shared a third-story walk-up apartment with her two best friends, Jenn and Vanessa. The aroma of the coffee, coupled with the scent of freshly-baked pastries, assaulted her senses as soon as she walked into the shop. The line was fairly long, but Felicity knew from experience that the baristas who worked the morning shift were efficient.

“The usual, Felicity?” Greg, the barista, asked when she made it up to the counter.

“Yes, please,” she replied as she began to dig through her backpack for her wallet. As usual, it had managed to make its way to the bottom. Why hadn’t she been ready?

She felt him before she even saw him, an awareness that had her skin puckering up into goose bumps in the most delicious way. 

_Loverboy_.

He suddenly stood next to her, too close considering they were virtual strangers, but Felicity didn’t shrink back. Instead she breathed in his clean scent—a mixture of bath soap, a teasing hint of cologne, and a aroma that was just _his_—and found herself marveling at just how tall and broad he was. She had never considered herself to be a small woman per se, just average, but his size dwarfed her. His arm brushed against hers as he reached around her and placed money on the counter before she could produce the cash she sought. 

“Add a large black coffee to that order, please.” He was speaking to Greg, but Felicity could feel his warm breath against the delicate shell of her ear.

“That’s not necessary,” she quickly cut in, finally locating her wallet from the abyss of her backpack. She stepped forward, putting some separation between them, though not completely out of the young man’s shadow.

“You would deny a man his coffee?” His mock horror drew the slightest of smiles from her.

Felicity tilted her head. “That’s not what I meant. You don’t need to buy my breakfast.”

But Greg was already producing change, which Loverboy subsequently dropped into the tip jar. Felicity’s eyes widened. He’d deposited more into the tip jar than the two coffees and the blueberry scone cost.

“Too late. It’s already done.” They stepped aside so the next customer in line could have his order taken. “You’re Felicity.”

“You know my name?”

“That’s what Greg called you. _Felicity_. It’s a nice name. Rolls off the tongue.”

His words were innocuous enough, but as Felicity watched his tongue dart out to wet his lips, she couldn’t help but imagine what else that tongue could do. Whether he was intentionally baiting her, she wasn’t certain. All she knew was she felt her face growing embarrassingly warm.

His eyes twinkled in amusement, as though reading her thoughts. “I’m Oliver. My friends call me Ollie.”

“Oliver--,” she began.

“We’re not friends?” he interrupted.

“Oliver,” she repeated, “thank you for the coffee, but I insist on paying you back.”

“It’s just coffee.”

“And a scone.”

“Right. How could I forget about the scone? We’ve truly entered dangerous territory now.”

Felicity exhaled as she vacillated between wanting to run in the other direction and finding herself drawn, almost as if by some unseen magnet, to this guy who was obviously trouble. It was one thing to dream about him; she couldn’t control what her subconscious mind did. It was another thing entirely to be knowingly drawn into his web. 

“May I confess something to you?” he asked her conspiratorially.

_Color her intrigued_. “They say confession is good for the soul.” No, no, no. She should have told him no.

He leaned forward to whisper in her ear. “I kind of cut to the front of the line.” He stepped back to watch her reaction.

“So buying me coffee was to, what, make others think we were together so that they wouldn’t bounce you out of here for cutting? That _is _dangerous territory. You _don’t _get between people and their caffeine.”

“Two things. First, I’m pretty sure this coffee shop is in a nice enough neighborhood that there are no bouncers.”

“Okay. Fair enough. And what’s two?”

He grinned, and she felt her stomach flip-flop at the sight of his dimples. “Risking the wrath of the decaffeinated masses is always worth it to talk to a pretty girl.”

She shook her head. “Does flattery work?”

“You tell me.”

She blew out a little puff of air. “I’ve always felt that flattery is like chewing gum. You can enjoy it, but you really shouldn’t swallow it." 

“I guess there are other things to swallow…” his voice trailed off, leaving her mind furiously filling in the blanks in an almost crude fashion. Seeing the thoughts play across her features, he added with a self-deprecating chuckle, “Like coffee. But how else is a shy guy like myself supposed to get your attention?”

“You hardly seem the shy type. In fact, from what I’ve seen, you’re _very_friendly. My friends even have a nickname for you. Loverboy.” 

He looked quite pleased with himself. “You’ve already told your friends about me. I like where this is going.”

“No! Yes. I mean…” The awkwardness took more than ten seconds to arrive, but now it was in full force.

The tension was thankfully somewhat alleviated by their order coming up.

Oliver passed her coffee and scone to her. “Listen, I’ve got to leave for class. Last week before finals. Can’t afford to skip.”

“Right. Of course.”

“But my fraternity is having a party this Friday night.” He dug in his bag for a pen and snatched a napkin off the counter before jotting down an address. “It’d be great if you stopped by.”

* * *

“What did you tell him?” Vanessa asked flopping down next to Felicity onto the worn, floral-patterned couch. Felicity had met her roommate in the residence hall before they decided to venture off campus. Vanessa de la Croix had been one of the few people who didn’t look at her strangely for being…well, herself: the youngest, smartest person in the room—though Vanessa periodically called her ‘Baby’ with affection. 

Their other roommate, Jenn, grew up with Vanessa. Eager to leave their small town in Ohio, Jenn Johnson showed up one day and never left. She worked at a flower shop and did other small jobs to help pay her portion of the rent and subsidize her partying habit. The trio were so different from one another, but somehow, it worked.

Felicity nervously picked at her nail polish. At the rate she was going, she’d have her thumbnail completely naked in no time at all. “I didn’t tell him anything. He left, and I left. Just not together. And that was that.”

Vanessa’s brown eyes sparkled. “He asked you out,” she said in a sing-song fashion.

“No, he didn’t,” Felicity asserted. “There were no exchanges of phone numbers. No definite plans. It was very casual.”

“Casual is not a bad thing,” Jenn piped in as she stepped into the living room from the small, adjacent kitchen. She ran a hand over her mass of short, red curls. “Some of my very best experiences have been casual.”

Felicity pulled her knees to her chest. “Why do I get the feeling we’re not talking about the party anymore?”

“Just think about it. He’s obviously interested,” Jenn argued.

“If he’s interested in anything, it’s sex. I don’t…”

“‘Have time for that,’” Vanessa finished. 

“We know,” Jenn added. “You said it when Cooper Seldon asked you out. You said it when Trent Masters asked you out. We’ve heard it a thousand times. But you can’t hide from it forever. One of these days, you’re going to have to give up the V-card. This Oliver guy, he sounds like he knows what he’s doing, and I know you think he’s hot. You could do worse.”

“Way worse. Tom Yeltzer worse,” Vanessa grimaced.

Felicity shook her head. “He’s a player.”

“Who wants to play with _you_,” Jenn reasoned. “Felicity, you’re leaving in two weeks. What kind of long-term relationship do you think the two of you would have anyway? You’re not looking for Mr. Right. You need Mr. Right Now, and Loverboy sounds like he would be just the right fit.”

“That sounded so dirty,” Vanessa commented.

“I know,” Jenn replied, almost proudly. 

“If I go to the party, that does not mean I’m going to have sex with him.”

Vanessa perked up. “But you should still shave your legs. You know, leave your options open.”

Jenn cackled, “Her options won’t be the only thing open.”

Felicity groaned into a throw pillow while her friends giggled.

* * *

The week crept by as classes wound down for finals. Felicity had been back to Jitters only once, but Oliver hadn’t been there. Not that she was looking for him or anything. No, she had other pressing matters on her mind, like life after graduation. The last thing she wanted to do was go back to her mother’s small Las Vegas apartment. The good news was she finally heard back from Sandy at Queen Consolidated’s HR department, who wanted to schedule an interview. Felicity had tried to play it cool, but when she got off the phone, she did her own version of a victory lap around the small apartment.

When Friday night rolled around, she settled on her bed with a pile of books, but the digits on her alarm clock were tormenting her. 7:30. She wondered what _he_was doing. Was he actually expecting _her_, or had he extended similar invitations to countless other girls? 

8:03. The notes she had transcribed into her laptop were blurring before her eyes. She took off her glasses and rubbed her eyes, unable to keep her mind on the material.

What did they really have in common anyway? A love of coffee? But it was like Jenn and Vanessa said. She wasn’t looking for anything long-term, so what did it matter what they did or didn’t have in common? Besides, Oliver certainly was…interesting.

At 8:21, she pushed aside her computer and traipsed to her small closet. It was warm outside and would likely be warm in the fraternity house with all those people…

Her eyes finally settled on a black cami. She’d bought it because Vanessa kept pestering her about not dressing like a sixty-year-old librarian, but purchasing it was as far as she’d gone. The price tag was still attached. 

A few minutes later, she had put on the cami, paired with skinny white pants and strappy sandals. It was an interesting combination, with the cami being modestly cut in the front but with fabric that draped low in the back, revealing her toned back. She pulled her hair from its customary ponytail and arranged it to the side, braiding it loosely. Last, she shucked her glasses in favor of contact lenses. With a pop of color added to her lips and mascara to enhance her eyes, she was out the door. Thankfully, her roommates were busy with their own Friday plans; otherwise, she could just imagine what they’d say.

* * *

The spring night air was warm on Felicity’s face as she approached the Kappa Eta house. This was _so_out of her comfort zone. Having started college much younger than the average student, she was never really involved in Greek life. Plus, it seemed odd to essentially pay money to hang out with people.

Mentally, she went over the rules she had set for herself as she approached the house. No more than two drinks. Avoid going off on tangents about technical topics. And no matter how appealing you find Loverboy, don’t be the easy girl.

A couple of guys hanging out on the front porch greeted some girls by name who walked in front of her, and Felicity blushed as she felt their eyes glance over her. Self-consciously, she chewed on her bottom lip as one of them grinned at her. Two other girls hurried past in the opposite direction. One leaned over the railing as her friend barely managed to pull her hair back before she retched into the bushes. Nothing like vomiting to get the party started. _Nice_.

Sweat and the scent of beer greeted Felicity as she walked inside. The lights were dim, barely illuminating the mass of people crowded into the main room, and she could feel her sandals sticking to the floor.

A smiling young man approached her. “Can I get you a beer?” he asked, nodding to the keg behind him.

“Yes, please,” Felicity replied. Even though she technically wasn’t legal, she’d had alcohol more than a few times before. Beer, she had discovered, was an acquired taste, but when in Rome…

He quickly tapped her beer into a red Solo cup. “What’s your name?” he asked.

“Felicity.”

“I’m Dave. You go to school here?”

She shook her head ruefully.

“Oh, a crasher,” he laughed jovially. Felicity wasn’t sure if it was just his personality or if he was working off a beer buzz. “I won’t tell if you won’t tell.”

“I’m actually looking for someone,” Felicity began to explain.

“Aren’t we all?” Waxing poetic. Maybe this guy was more gone than she realized.

“His name’s Oliver.”

As another guy began to walk past them, David stuck out his hand stopping his friend. “Hey Dex, where’s Ollie tonight?”

“He's somewhere around, probably fighting off the chicks,” Dex shrugged, and David laughed.

“Probably not putting up much of a fight,” David added.

Felicity gulped down half her beer, barely tasting it. The off-handed comment had her feeling knotted in her stomach. _Ridiculous_, she chastised herself. It wasn’t as though she really knew Oliver or had any actual attachment to him. He was just a guy in a coffee shop who raised her pulse and invaded her dreams at night. No big deal.

“Hey, don’t mind us. Ollie’s not a bad guy. And I’m sure he’s around here somewhere just playing host.”

Pretty soon, David’s attention was turned to someone else.

Felicity made her way to a couch that had seen better days and settled on the worn cushion. She watched a group play darts and doubted the advisability of inebriated people hurling sharp objects. She really, really did not like pointy objects, and watching this group reminded her why.

A few minutes later, a couple settled on the couch next to her and immediately became wrapped up in each other. The young man’s hands went to the girl’s breasts, and she moaned against his mouth as she moved onto his lap, grinding against him.

This was uncomfortable.

And to make matters worse, the beer was going right through Felicity’s system. She began scanning for a bathroom but didn’t immediately see one. It would take a little exploration, but with as hot and heavy as the couple on the couch were getting, maybe that was for the best.

She weaved through the sweaty throng to a hallway near a set of stairs. She noticed a line of five girls outside of a closed door and what she assumed was the bathroom. The door opened and the couple from the couch darted in front of the first girl in line. “Hey!” she protested.

“Sorry! Emergency!” the guy explained and shut the door behind him, though his partner’s giggles could clearly be heard through the door.

Felicity wrinkled her nose. This wasn’t going to work. She didn’t want to go in there after they finished their ‘emergency.’ For that matter, she wondered if she needed to walk into a giant vat of Lysol and disinfect herself. If this was what frat parties were like, she was pretty sure she hadn’t missed out during her college years. 

Felicity leaned back a little and glanced up the stairs. Several people were hanging out on the landing, but it was definitely quieter up there. Surely there was more than one bathroom in the house.

Leaving the line behind, she turned around and hurried up the stairs. She bypassed the first three rooms with open doors and came to a couple of closed ones. One of those two rooms must be a bathroom.

Felicity leaned toward the nearest one and pressed her ear against it. Nothing. She knocked softly and waited for a reply. When she didn’t hear one, she slowly turned the knob and began to push open the door. She nearly gasped as it suddenly pulled open and out of her clasp.

Oh, this _definitely _wasn’t a bathroom, she realized as her eyes flew up and registered Oliver’s bare chest in front of her. His chest was smooth, unmarred except for a delicately curling tattoo over his left pectoral that read _Speedy_. 

“I… I…” Felicity stammered.

His pupils dilated as he stared at her in amusement. She let her gaze fall down his body, her mouth suddenly full of cotton while other parts of her certainly had a different reaction.

Oh, Google. His body was delicious. Not that she had any doubts, but her imagination simply didn’t do him justice. He was so sculpted it was as though even his muscles had muscles. The line between his six-pack looked like it was etched in stone. As her eyes traveled lower to the trail of dark-blond hair beneath his navel, she gulped. Oliver was naked but holding a towel placed strategically over his crotch. But even then, she could see the tenting of the towel. 

Had all the air been sucked out of the house, she wondered. 

“See something you like?” he asked drily.

Felicity snapped her eyes back up to his beautiful, chiseled face. His hair was mussed, but even that only served to enhance his appeal. The one part of him that looked less than perfect was his eyes. Those usually bright blue eyes looked bloodshot. Obviously, someone had started the party early.

She cleared her throat trying to buy time to think of something—anything—to say that didn’t sound like a garbled mess of word vomit. It didn’t help that she could feel his gaze traveling over her body appreciatively, or the way his uninhibited behavior caused desire to pool in her very core even though it _really_shouldn’t. “Oh, no, I was—” 

“Are you here to join us?” he asked, pulling the door open a little more. Felicity glanced over his shoulder and saw a naked girl in bed covered in rumpled sheets.

“Ollie!” the girl scolded him with a giggle, and pulled a sheet up over her breasts.

Felicity’s eyes widened. _Oh_. That was _not_what she had expected.

“If I weren't already naked, I'd say you were undressing me with your eyes,” he said smugly.

Felicity felt her cheeks burn scarlet. “No, sorry. You are so not my type,” she murmured, averting her eyes and rushing down the hall toward the stairs as she heard the girl dissolve into laughter and the door close behind Oliver.

She ran straight out of the front door and down the steps before stopping on the sidewalk to process what had just happened.

_Ugh, I'm such an idiot. Why did I apologize to that spoiled, oversexed asshat?_

How humiliating. Just utterly mortifying!

And how arrogant was he to think she would join in with him and that girl in a threesome—as though she actually would do something like that?

Hot tears built up behind her eyes and threatened to spill over. No. Just _no_. She would not cry over that prick.

She’d had such high hopes for tonight, such high hopes for _him_. The warning signs were there, and she’d glibly ignored each and every one. Lesson learned.

At least she’d never have to see him again.

But dammit if she didn’t still have to pee.


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So . . . this story happened.
> 
> It is so out of left field and so AU, it's just ridiculous, but I still hope you will come along for the ride and have fun. In full disclosure, I got the idea for the story while reading Colleen Masters's Stepbrother Untouchable. There are a couple of events in the early chapters of this story that are similar to that novel, but this is not a retelling of Masters's novel with just a change of the character names. Incorrigible takes its own spin on a (taboo?) trope. Instead, Masters's story made me think about what would it be like if Felicity's mom had married Oliver's dad and the two were forced to interact under those circumstances.
> 
> There are shades of the Oliver and Felicity we see on the show, but obviously this Oliver did not go through the five years of hell on the island, and he is more Ollie than Oliver at the beginning. Fair warning: Ollie will probably make you want to throw things at him (Felicity certainly will want to), but give him a chance. You won't be disappointed.

**Chapter Two**

The blaring of the alarm on his phone—set to mimic the sound of a foghorn—had Oliver’s head pounding in unison with each honk. 

“Make it stop,” came a weary, annoyed voice from next to him. 

“Trying to.” But where was the damn thing? He attempted to get out of bed, got tangled in the sheets, and fell to the floor with a thud and an _oomfph_. The deep sound continued, acting as a beacon to be followed. He located the offending technology in the pocket of his jeans, which had been strewn aside at some point the night before—and mercifully silenced it.

“Now that we’re awake, maybe we can go for round two.”

Oliver didn’t typically go for repeats, except for Sara, and that was different. More happy-ending rather than some misguided notion of happily-ever-after. Not that there was anything wrong with his current companion. Even if she looked a little worse for the wear this morning, she had been hot and a great distraction the night before, very willing to do what she could to lift his sour mood. He just didn’t want to give the wrong impression. This wasn’t going to turn into anything long-term, and he wasn’t a prize to be won.

“I really enjoyed last night . . .” for a beat, he struggled to remember her name before continuing without it, “but I’m not looking for a relationship. I thought we were clear about that last night.”

“Are you in a relationship with that girl who showed up here last night?”

“Who?” Oliver’s brain was still in an alcohol-induced fog that slowly began to clear. What had he done? Oh right. Invited Sunshine from the coffee shop to come to the party. Well, her name was Felicity, he recalled, but Sunshine was how he always thought of her. _Lame._ He would certainly never admit that to anyone, but there was something about her that reminded him of warmth and light. She was adorable and quirky and had the best ass he had ever seen—clothed. Hence _Sunshine_. 

And . . . she had shown up, and he had invited her to join him and what’s-her-name in a threesome. “Oh. Oh shit.”

“I really hope she’s not the jealous type,” his companion commented as she began to search for her clothes. She found them piecemeal and began to put herself back together for the proverbial walk of shame.

Oliver shook his head, disgusted with himself, only to regret the motion as his stomach roiled and his brain felt like it was being chiseled. He was an asshole when he drank too much. He was usually good at limiting his quantities, but yesterday had been --. He didn’t finish the thought, willing yesterday and everything that day represented to just fuck off.

He looked at his phone. Still no messages from his dad. He had tried to call him multiple times the day before, but his dad’s phone had gone directly to voicemail. How could his dad ignore him? Not that Oliver wanted to sit around, talk on the phone, and commiserate about _that_anniversary, but it would have been nice not to be alone. No one else in the world could understand what they had been through, not even Tommy.

So help him, if his dad let Isabel Rochev get her hooks in him again . . .

He’d be going home for the summer soon, and he would do everything in his power to put an end to _that_.

The girl cleared her throat. Right. He wasn’t alone. Not exactly, but he might as well have been. “So I’m just gonna go,” she said pointing her thumb toward the door. “I did have a really good time. Not sure I’m gonna be able to walk straight today,” she added with a waggle of her brows. “If you change your mind and ever want to hook up again, give me a call.”

Oliver nodded, but he knew he would never seek her out again. That just wasn’t his m.o. 

* * *

“You really don’t have to fly all the way out here.” Felicity flopped back on her bed and cringed when the edge of one of her many overpriced textbooks strewn about jabbed the small of her back.

_“Are you kidding me? It’s not everyday that my baby graduates from MIT! I wouldn’t miss this for the world.” _Even through the phone, Felicity could see her mother’s animated mannerisms—albeit in her mind’s eye—as the woman spoke.

She liked to pretend that she didn’t need her mother around for the milestones, but she had to admit that she wanted her there. “The Two Musketeers,” her mother used to call them. Of course, that was before Felicity knew what a musket was. Then the reference struck her as odd. “It’s not exactly my first graduation, and I know money is tight.”

_“You don’t need to worry about that. I am just so incredibly proud of you. So how’s the job search coming along?”_

“I have interviews lined up for the week after graduation. Palmer Technologies. Kord Industries. Queen Consolidated.” 

_“You finally heard from Queen Consolidated?”_

“Yes.”

"_I told you so,” her mother gloated gleefully._

“Yes, you did. You were so certain.”

_Because I knew they’d recognize your ability. You don’t get to be a successful company without hiring the best people. I’d say that CEO knows what he’s doing.”_

What in the world? “Well, I’m not hired yet. It’s just an interview, and I seriously doubt that Mr. Queen actually does any hiring. There’s a human resources department for that." 

_“I have a good feeling about this.”_

Felicity looked up at the popcorn ceiling of her small bedroom. “We’ll see how it turns out.”

_“You okay, pumpkin? You sound a little down.”_

“Just tired. It’s been a long week.” 

_“Are you still seeing that boy from the coffee shop?”_

“What?”

_“When you didn’t answer your cell phone last night, I called the landline. Vanessa answered and said you were going to a party with a boy you met at that coffee shop you like.”_

“I’m not seeing anyone.”

_“You know you can tell me if you are. You don’t have to be shy about these things with me.”_

The last person she wanted to spend a second thought on was Loverboy. That didn’t mean she hadn’t thought of him, but she sure didn’t want to. Ugh. “It’s not about being shy. I did meet someone at Jitters, but he is the last person on earth I would ever waste time on.”

_“There’s a story there,” _her mother replied in a sing-song voice.

“For another time,” Felicity hedged. “Mom, I really need to get back to studying, and I haven’t even started packing.”

"_Okay. Just promise me something.”_

“No promises, but shoot.”

"Promise _me you won’t let one bad experience keep you from seeing the possibilities out there. You are starting a new chapter in your life, and the world is going to open up to you in ways you never even dreamed.”_

“Why do I get the feeling we’re not talking about me anymore?”

"_Guilty as charged.”_ And then her mother squealed. _Squealed_._“What would you say if I brought someone with me to your graduation?”_

“I would say why does someone I don’t even know want to put himself through the torture of a three-hours-long commencement ceremony? He must be crazy about you.” 

On the other end, Donna laughed. _“Oh, I’ve missed you. You’re so good for my ego. His name is Robert, and I’m pretty crazy about _him_. He’s just so different from any other man I’ve ever known.”_

“That’s what you said about the magician who had the show at Caesar’s with the trained doves and lioness.”

_I mean it this time. He’s special, Felicity. He treats me like a lady. I’m dying for the two of you to meet.”_

“Okay.”

_“I’ll let him know you’re game.” _Her mother chuckled nervously. _“Robert has a son who attends school there in the Boston area, so while we’re in town, I’ll be meeting him, too. I guess we both get to be in the hot seat.”_

Through the phone, Felicity heard what sounded like a horn, but it was deeper than a car horn. Was that…? “Mom, is that a boat?”  
  
_“Sorry, sweetie. I’ve got to go. Love you!”_

* * *

Felicity ended the phone call feeling dumbfounded. _Now I'm really not going to be able to study_. Could her mom and this Robert guy be engaged? Oh, why hadn’t she thought to ask for his last name? A little harmless cyber stalking would have been a perfect distraction from her studies and _him._

She nervously chewed her bottom lip. If that was the case and her mom was getting married, she wanted to be happy for her, but what if he was just one more jerk in the long line of lowlifes that she seemed to attract?

It was easy to understand why so many men were drawn to her mother. Donna Smoak was gorgeous and youthful; she was constantly being mistaken for Felicity’s older sister rather than her mother. Plus, she went out of her way to play up her physical attributes, loving the attention her looks brought her, and much to Felicity’s chagrin, downplaying her intelligence. Men were so willing to do everything for her, but they never seemed to be the right kind of men, and eventually the relationships crumbled.

Felicity had spent too many nights when she was growing up drying her mother’s tears. There had even been a time or two when an irate wife had shown up at their meager apartment.  
  
She couldn’t help but wonder how life would have been different for them if her father hadn’t up and left. For one, Donna wouldn’t have been trapped at a dead-end job wearing high heels and low-cut mini dresses with no skills to fall back on except flirting. But he had left, and that was Felicity’s first education. The only person you can truly depend on is yourself. Maybe that was why she’d always had her nose in the books and her eyes on a life that would take her out of the Nevada desert.

MIT was pretty far removed, she would say. 

With a sigh, she brought up the class notes she had typed on her computer. 

* * *

A few days later, Felicity glanced around as she entered Effervescence. Its architecture was elegant and airy, with a mixture of sumptuous fabrics and whitewashed hardwoods. She had never been there before—way out of her price range. She caught sight of her mom in a coveted corner booth. She walked toward her between rows of tables, the lively conversations of patrons filling the air, and the occasional clinking of wine glasses around the restaurant.

Donna’s eyes lit up, and she stood as she saw Felicity approaching. Felicity’s eyes widened. She looked even more gorgeous than usual. Her blonde hair, a little lighter than her daughter’s, was styled in a chic updo. The dress she wore looked tailor-made for her, cascading over her curves without being so tight it would stop traffic for the wrong reasons. This was a new look for her. The one feature Felicity recognized that had not changed was her mother’s perfect teeth, which showed brightly behind her deep red lipstick.

“Felicity! I've missed you, honey,” Donna enveloped the younger woman in a hug. She pulled back slightly and studied her daughter. “Let me look at you.” She pressed her hand to Felicity’s face. “You look stunning. Isn't this dress a little big for you, though?” she asked, pulling at the extra fabric around the waist.

“I borrowed it from Vanessa,” Felicity replied, allowing only the slightest bit of impatience to enter her voice. This was a recurring conversation with them. Donna always wanted Felicity to dress a little more flirty, a little more “form-fitting” as she put it. 

“Well, I'm so excited for you to meet Robert. You probably passed him on the way. He's just outside making a call —oh! Here he is.”

Felicity followed her gaze to a tall, elegantly dressed man with salt-and-pepper hair and blue eyes who was approaching them with a warm, dimpled smile. Something about him seemed familiar. Where had she seen him before?

“Donna, I'd think this was your sister if I didn't know any better,” Robert said, eliciting a giggle from his date. “Felicity, I'm Robert. Your mom has told me such wonderful things about you,” he said as he extended his hand to shake Felicity’s. 

“In full disclosure, she exaggerates,” Felicity replied, taking his hand with a smile.

“Well, let's sit. I ordered us some wine and sparkling cider for the table. It should be arriving soon.”

They all sat, Felicity on one side of the cushy leather booth and her mom and Robert on the other.

“So, Felicity, congratulations on your upcoming graduation. A Master’s degree is quite an accomplishment, particularly for one so young,” Robert commented.

“Yes, that's—” Felicity broke off as her mom reached for her water glass and light glistened off a ring on her left hand, as though providing a spotlight. It wasn’t just an engagement ring, either. A wedding ring was paired with an ostentatious diamond solitaire surrounded by sapphires. “What's that?” she asked sharply. 

“Oh,” Donna squeaked. 

Robert looked to Donna, his lips curling into a smile. She nodded slightly, and he turned to Felicity. “Well, we were going to wait until my son arrived, but—”

“We're married!” her mom announced suddenly.

Felicity gaped. “Married?!?” she whisper-shouted. “I mean, I thought maybe you’d be engaged but _married_?”

“You're upset?” Donna asked worriedly.

Felicity took a deep breath, trying to gather her composure. “No, not upset…,” she struggled to put her emotions into the right words. How could she express anything coherently when her brain felt like a hamster on a wheel, running but going nowhere? “Just surprised, that's all. I mean, how long have you known each other?”

“Well,” a guilty look crossed Donna’s face, “we met six months ago.”

“I was on a business trip.”

“And I was working the evening shift. A customer got fresh with me. Smacked my bottom when I wasn’t expecting it.” She shook her head ruefully. “Honestly, I should be used to it by now, but it startled me so much I ended up dumping a whole tray full of cocktails on Robert.”

“The look on your face…” he chuckled, seeming to relive the experience.

“I’m sure was nothing compared to the look on _yours_,” Donna replied reaching up and stroking his cheek.

“You had me at ‘Oh shit.’”

“You know I don’t normally talk like that,” Donna replied sweetly.

“I do now. But all I knew then was you had the face of an angel and a mouth that was definitely _not_angelic.”

Feeling more and more incredulous with each passing second, Felicity interrupted the couple’s cutesy moment. “Please tell me you weren’t the customer that smacked her bottom.”

“Of course not!” her mother interrupted. “Robert is a gentleman.”

“So you’ve been seeing each other for six months, and the first I heard about it was less than a week ago?”

“It’s complicated, Lissy,” Donna said, her eyes silently pleading for her daughter to understand and table the discussion for the time being.

But there were too many conflicting questions and emotions churning in Felicity for her to let the matter go. “Complicated how? Were you married at the time?” Felicity asked turning her attention to Robert. “Are you _still_married? Please don’t tell me you’re a bigamist.” Her imagination started to get carried away as she pondered all the things that could go wrong.

“No,” Robert assured her. “I’m a widower.”

Felicity pursed her lips and shook her head slightly before saying, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s been three years. I threw myself into my work and quite frankly never thought I would marry again. Then I met your mother, and my whole world changed.”

“Robert took me on a surprise trip to Punta de Mita two weeks ago, and everything was just so perfect…” Donna trailed off, looking to him for support. 

Robert picked up, “It really was, Felicity. And it felt so right. It’s a shame our families weren’t there, but we just felt that we had to seize the moment. We married in a little ceremony on a cliff, with spectacular views of the Pacific, and the captain of a boat that was docked at the resort officiated…”

“It was engagement, wedding, and honeymoon in one! We just wished you and Ollie could have been there. That would have made it even more perfect.”

Felicity struggled to process all the information they were throwing at her, but in the haze of overload, one thing stood out. “Sorry, who's Ollie?”

“Ollie—Oliver actually—is my son. He’s a senior at Harvard. He was supposed to be meeting us here so Donna and I could tell the two of you our news together, but as usual his punctuality is lacking…”

Felicity felt as though her head were underwater and the sounds in the dining room distant and distorted. Ollie…Oliver. It _couldn’t _be. The name was a bit old-fashioned, but certainly not unusual, especially among the Harvard set. It wasn’t him. _It wasn’t_. There was no way that of all the men in the world, _her _mother had married _his _father. 

“There he is!” Robert slid out of the booth to wave to his son.

As Robert’s son walked into her periphery, Felicity felt her heart slamming against her ribs, a rhythm that staccatoed _no, no, no, no_.

_Loverboy_.


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In full disclosure, I got the idea for the story while reading Colleen Masters's _Stepbrother Untouchable_. There are a couple of events in the early chapters of this story that are similar to that novel, but this is not a retelling of Masters's novel with just a change of the character names. Incorrigible takes its own spin on a (taboo?) trope.  
Instead, Masters's story made me think about what would it be like if Felicity's mom had married Oliver's dad and the two were forced to interact under those circumstances.
> 
> There are shades of the Oliver and Felicity we see on the show, but obviously this Oliver did not go through the five years of hell on the island, and he is more Ollie than Oliver at the beginning. Fair warning: Ollie will probably make you want to throw things at him (Felicity certainly will want to), but give him a chance. You won't be disappointed.

**Chapter Three**

Felicity watched the events unfold, as though they were in slow motion. Oliver hugged his dad and then shook hands with her mom.

She could not believe this was happening. _Surely I'm in the middle of some strange nightmare and will wake up soon_. She had hoped she would never have to see him again after the other night.

“Felicity, honey, this is Ollie, Robert's son,” her mom said, cutting through the fog of emotion in her brain.

“H-Hi. Oliver. Ollie. Felicity. I'm Felicity,” she stammered as he cut his gaze over at her, his blue eyes meeting hers. “I mean, of course I am since you’re obviously not.”

“Felicity, pleasure to meet you,” he replied formally extending his hand and mercifully cutting short her ramble.

Felicity’s jaw clenched slightly as she numbly took his hand. Did he not even remember her? 

“Well, scooch over, Felicity, so Ollie has a place to sit,” Donna said, waving Felicity over with her hands.

“Right, sorry,” Felicity replied, releasing his proffered hand and sliding over in the booth so that Oliver could sit next to her. She stared straight ahead as he sat. Already, her body was betraying her.The heat from his leg under the table was giving her heart palpitations. This was ridiculous.She should not be reacting like this to him! 

“I was starting to think you weren’t going to make it,” Robert said tensely to his son. “I tried calling, but you didn’t pick up.”

“Sorry, Dad. I was in the library studying for my last final. I had my phone off.” 

Father and son exchanged looks; Robert’s expression suggested he did not believe Oliver’s explanation for his tardiness, but he did not confront him. Instead, Robert draped his arm around his wife’s slender shoulder. “Well, you missed the big announcement. We were just telling Felicity that Donna and I have gotten married.”

_Wow.Nothing like ripping off the band-aid._

Felicity glanced at Oliver out of the corner of her eye and watched his blue eyes widen in surprise. His tone was guarded as he spoke. “Married? You told me you'd never get married again.”

“Well, sometimes things change. When I met Donna, I just knew I couldn’t let her get away. You'll understand when you get to know her. She's remarkable.”

Felicity watched her mom glow like a 1000-watt bulb. It had been a long time since she had seen her mother so happy, and Donna Smoak’s happiness was long overdue. Unfortunately, from past experience, it seemed like when good things started to happen for her mother, the other shoe dropped.So help her, if Oliver did something to snatch her mother’s happiness away, she would make his life a living hell. 

Oliver exhaled. “I'm… I'm just…”Felicity watched Oliver struggle for words just as she had only a few moments prior. “Surprised. But happy for you,” he added.He looked Donna squarely in the eyes. “I'm looking forward to getting to know you better, Donna.”

Wow, that was… magnanimous. Not what the smirking bastard she encountered at the frat house the other night would say.

“Oh, me too, Ollie,” her mom replied, looking overjoyed. “And I'm so excited for you and Felicity to get to know each other! You always wanted a sibling, Felicity! And now you have one! Well, a step-sibling, but still such a gift.”

A step-sibling she had literally had dozens of dirty dreams about. This was not the gift she wanted. Sometimes her life really sucked.

“And I think it will be good for you to have a female influence,” Robert directed to Oliver before looking to Felicity adding playfully,“Maybe you can convince him to settle down?”

Felicity choked on her water.

“So, you two have both been going to school in Cambridge.Have you ever met?” her mom asked, glancing between Oliver and Felicity.

“The Boston area is huge,” Felicity hedged. What she said wasn’t exactly untrue, but…

She could see Oliver eye her for a second before he nodded, “Nope, never met.Unfortunately.”

Really?Not that she expected Ollie to confess that he had hit on her in a coffee shop and later invited her for a _ménage a trois_, but ugh. She still thought he wouldn’t act like he didn’t know her at all. 

Oh.

Maybe he really _didn’t_ know who she was.

Obviously he interacted with a lot of women. And he had been drinking when she saw him at the party and he extended his invitation.

She wrinkled her nose. She wasn’t sure which was worse.

“When we realized that both of our children went to school in Boston, we thought it would be quite a small world if you knew each other,” Robert remarked.

Felicity felt her cheeks growing warm. “Yes, unbelievably small. Miniscule even.”

The waitress returned with the bottle of wine that Robert ordered. Lafite Rothschild, Felicity saw as she looked at the label. She wasn’t exactly a wine expert—though she knew enough to know that she really, really liked it in general—but she had heard of this.It was insanely expensive. Her new stepfather was either loaded or was a scam artist. Given her mother’s luck, she feared it was the latter.

The waitress poured a sampling for Robert, who tried it and gave his approval before she poured the wine into three elegant crystal wineglasses and placed the bottle into a wine cooler next to the table. She also poured sparkling cider into an identical glass.

Robert gave Donna the cider before passing the glasses of wine to Oliver and Felicity.He took his own and raised it. “To our new family,” he said, looking around the table.

They raised the glasses and clinked them together. Felicity managed to do so without making eye contact with Oliver.

Oh Google. This wine was so much better than the boxed wine that Vanessa occasionally kept in the refrigerator of their apartment. Between the deliciousness of the wine and sitting next to a stepbrother she had once (okay, still) lusted over, she had never wanted to drink an entire bottle of alcohol more in her life than at that moment. Somehow she managed what she hoped were modest sips.

Then it occurred to her that her mother was drinking the cider, not wine.Her eyebrows rose questioningly as she looked at her mom. _Surely not_.She needed to stop jumping to conclusions.

Donna saw the expression and threw Felicity a warning look. “So, honey,” she began cheerfully trying to divert the conversation before it ventured into uncomfortable territory, “you mentioned you have some job interviews lined up?”

Hadn’t they already covered this? “Right.In the weeks after graduation.”

“Oh?Where are you interviewing, Felicity?” Robert asked conversationally.

“Palmer Tech.Kord.Queen Consolidated. A few smaller companies, as well.”

The older man raised a brow. “Impressive.I’ve heard the selection process is fairly arduous at the big three you mentioned. Which is your top pick?”

“Queen Consolidated,” Felicity replied without missing a beat.“The Applied Sciences division is on the cusp of cutting edge but not quite there yet.”

“What do you think is holding them back?” Robert queried.

“Too many suits, not enough ingenuity.”From beside her, she could hear Oliver chuckle, a sound that quickly choked off into a cough to cover his amusement.What was _that_ all about?Had she said something wrong?“At Palmer or Kord, I would be another face in a crowd of innovators.At Queen, I could make a difference.”

“Who says idealism is dead?” Oliver said beside her.

She bristled slightly as she eyed her new stepbrother. “I’m not totally idealistic. At this point, it’s just an interview.” She glanced at Donna who reached over and took Robert’s hand.

“If you get the job at Queen Consolidated, you may run into Oliver.He is working there this summer,” Robert mentioned, a twinkle in his eyes.

“Yes, shadowing one of the suits,” Oliver remarked drily. “It’s a…family affair.”

Felicity nearly choked on her wine. At this rate, they were going to think she had a drinking problem, as in she couldn’t get the liquid to go down the right way. “Come again?”

Robert shook his head ruefully. “Felicity, I’ve been unfair to you.I admit that I wanted to see what you would say unencumbered by the knowledge of my position.”

Then it hit her.Yes, Robert had looked familiar to her when she first saw him, but that familiarity went beyond a resemblance between father and son. “Robert…Queen,” Felicity realized.“In all the photos I’ve seen of you online, you had a beard.”

“Someone suggested I would look younger without it.”

Donna laughed lightly as she reached out and stroked his bare cheek.

“This is embarrassing,” Felicity groaned.

“Nonsense.You didn’t say anything to be embarrassed about. You offered an honest assessment of a company. That’s all.”

“That I’ve only read about.I have no firsthand knowledge of your company.It’s just my perception.”

“We should remedy that. I’d like you to come work for QC, Felicity. Perhaps you are exactly what we need to get back our innovative spark.”

“I—I can’t,” she said ruefully. “You’re my step-father.Oh, that sounds so weird.” She shook her head, snapping herself from her disbelief.“My colleagues will think I didn’t earn my position.”

“With a Master’s degree at age twenty in Cyber Security and Computer Science from MIT, I hardly doubt anyone is going to assume that nepotism is involved.Oliver, on the other hand, is proof that nepotism is alive and well.”His words were spoken with a jovial tone, but she felt Oliver stiffen next to her.

She didn’t have much experience with fathers; her own had left when she was quite young.What she did know was that, whether intentional or not, Robert’s words had to sting. She tried to soften the blow.

“I’m partial to MIT for obvious reasons, but Harvard is one of the best schools in the country.Not just anyone is admitted.You have a lot to be proud of.” The pity in her voice made her inwardly cringe. Maybe he didn’t hear it.

Oliver glanced at her sharply, his blue eyes flashing. Nope, he definitely heard it.

Robert replied, “No, not just anyone, but it helps to have the last name Queen.I’m just glad school #4 stuck.”

Oliver huffed out a sardonic laugh. “For those of you joining this family already in progress, this is the part where my father once again expresses what a disappointment I am.”

“Let’s not do this here, Ollie,” Robert cautioned.

Her mom broke in.“Everything looks so yummy!I’m not sure what to order.”It was an abrupt change in topic, but after a tense moment complete with a stare down, the Queen men followed Donna’s lead.

The talk around the table turned to niceties of no consequence, largely led by Donna, who weighed the benefits of a tender steak versus an arugula salad. That then led to a discussion of the Las Vegas buffets and the smorgasbord of food that represented the excess of Vegas.

The waitress arrived shortly after and took their orders, much to Felicity’s relief.

“So…honey, I hope you don’t mind, but I packed up everything from your room at the apartment.”

“Why would I mind?” Other than a few awards and personal mementos, every item that she cared about was with her at college.She had not particularly been looking forward to going back to Nevada anyway.

“You used to always be so territorial anytime I came around any of your equipment.‘Stay away from my babies.’ Sound familiar?”

Felicity shrugged.“You’ve saved me the trouble.Plus, that stuff is positively ancient now in technology years.”

“Then it’s settled,” Donna smiled broadly.

“What is? You’ve skipped a few steps there.”

“They both have,” Oliver muttered under his breath.

“Naturally, I’ve moved to Starling City to be with Robert.There’s plenty of room at his house.”

“Our house,” Robert amended.Felicity could see Oliver’s jaw tighten from the corner of her eye.

“You can come straight to Starling City after graduation. It’ll be the perfect place to live as you start work at Queen Consolidated,” her mother finished.

“With all due respect,” Felicity directed to her new step-father, “I haven’t accepted a position there. I still feel like I should interview for the job—without the hiring manager knowing that we are now related.”

A sudden warm weight on her knee startled Felicity. She glanced down to see Oliver’s arm had disappeared under the tablecloth. _Seriously?!?!_ From the corner of her eyes, she looked at her new stepbrother, who was studiously staring ahead as though nothing was happening.Her heart thundered in her ears as she struggled to maintain her composure even as she felt the heat traveling up her leg.

“I can respect that,” Robert replied cordially.“At the least, I hope you’ll come for a visit and know that you’ll always have a place in our home. Your home, if you want it.”

Robert’s words felt like they were being spoken very far away, for the blood swooshing in Felicity’s ears made her feel completely disconnected from the conversation. 

“Just one big happy family,” Oliver said politely looking at Felicity, all the while his hand inched up her leg, stroking her thigh sensually. 

“Phew.I’m really glad you feel that way,” Donna said. “I can’t tell you how nervous I was about how you both would react to this news. Changes can be so hard.”

“They sure can,” Felicity replied as she took a drink from her wineglass, no longer bothering to moderate her sip.Oliver’s hand moved another inch up her leg.She could feel the rough, calloused skin of his palm.Oh good Google.They were at dinner with their parents, and he was putting the moves on her?What kind of guy would do that? Wait, she already knew the answer:the kind of guy who would invite her for a threesome. What was worse than that was as he touched her, she could feel herself wanting more. What was wrong with _her_?

“Everything will be set up at the house—for you both,” Donna assured them.

“Mmhmmm,” Felicity murmured, trying to focus on her mother’s words but finding it increasingly a challenge as she felt Oliver’s hand push up the hem of her dress.It was so wrong, she knew.The feminist in her knew she should throw her drink on him, but the wine aficionado hated to waste such an excellent vintage.Yes, that was it.It was _totally_ about the wine. Besides, he was just trying to get a reaction out of her, right?She’d be damned if she let him have the satisfaction. He’d already made a fool of her once; there was no way she was putting that episode on rerun.

Oliver’s hand moved another inch, stroking the sensitive flesh of her inner thigh.Sparks skittered through her; her whole body felt like it was on fire.She could barely breathe.

Her mom and Robert were completely unaware, seemingly wrapped up in each other.For his part, Oliver nonchalantly took a sip of his wine with his free hand, all the while massaging her in a painstakingly deliberate way.As his fingertips brushed the edge of her panties, her breath caught within her, but his expression remained impassive.

It was a game of chicken?Right?Just a game of chicken. 

But her whole body was tingling, partly from anger, partly from arousal.It was terrible and wonderful all at the same time. 

No more.She had to end the delicious torment. There was no way she was going to let Loverboy finger her in the middle of a fancy restaurant as they sat across from their parents. If this was the game he wanted to play, she was just going to have to change the rules.

As her mom moved her head to Robert's ear to murmur sweet nothings, Felicity slid her fork off the table and pressed it tongs-first into the top of Oliver’s hand. An odd satisfaction surged through her as she heard his sharp intake of breath.She smiled sweetly at him, even as his mouth twitched as he tried to hold position through the pain. Narrowing her eyes, she pressed down harder.

_Jerk._

Suddenly he yanked his hand away.Felicity nearly skewered her own thigh with the fork, but she managed to stop in time.

Oliver turned to her and smiled, a wicked glimmer in his eyes. He may as well have come out and said, _‘I’m fucking with you_’ because his look said it all.

Was this his way of taking revenge for his dad heaping praises on her? She leaned toward him with a fake smile plastered on her face and hissed, “If you’re that pissed about your daddy issues, bring it up with him. Don’t take it out on me.”

“You were getting wet,” he said, his voice low and smooth, though the precaution was unnecessary. Their parents were so wrapped up in one another, they likely wouldn’t have heard even if Oliver had stood on the table and announced it to the whole restaurant.

“Was not,” she protested.

“Yes. You. Were.”His breath on the delicate shell of her ear as he enunciated each word sent a jolt through her. 

The rest of the meal passed without Oliver making another fake pass at her. The gears in her brain were moving in overdrive. How was she going to be around him year after year?Especially if what she suspected about her mother was true, and she and Oliver were going to share a sibling. Maybe she should steer clear of Star City, more aggressively pursue a job position elsewhere.

But the more she thought about it, the angrier she got.No!If Oliver was trying to scare her away, it wasn’t going to work.So what if she impressed his father and he didn’t?He’d had his entire life to prove himself. It wasn’t her fault if it only took her five minutes to do what he’d been unable to do in twenty-plus years.

If he wanted to play a game of chicken with her, game on.

After the waitress cleared their dinner plates, Robert took care of the bill with a black American Express card—very exclusive.Felicity had only ever seen one of those in the movies.Outside of the restaurant, they said their goodbyes and made plans to meet up after the commencement ceremony the next day. Felicity awkwardly hugged Robert goodbye; then her mom pulled her into a veritable bear hug.

“I know this was a lot to take in, honey. We'll talk everything over, I promise,” Donna whispered reassuringly, then kissed her on the cheek. Felicity managed a smile at her mom but began to tear up.The evening had been overwhelming to say the least. 

Oliver surprised her by leaning in for a hug as their parents looked on with a smile. “Great to meet you,” he said politely, then whispered almost silently in her ear, “Too bad we’ll never get a chance to have that threesome, Sis.”

Felicity froze as he patted her back once and then broke away.

He remembered.

* * *

The buzzing phone on his desk drew Oliver’s attention. He tried to ignore it; he had a final the next day, but he was screwed.Not literally.That he wouldn’t complain about.But he hadn’t been able to keep his mind on the tested material._Globalization and Emerging Markets_ just wasn’t holding his attention—not when his whole world was turned sideways and spun around a bit and his dad had oh-so-casually married Gold-digger Barbie.

What the actual fuck?

Well, that had to be it.Was she really that good in bed?

But it made no sense.His father had always cautioned him to enjoy himself but not get led around by his dick.

From the looks of things, Donna had a vise hooked around his father.

He tried to imagine what his mother would say if she were there. “The dead can’t talk,” Tommy’s father had once told him.But sometimes Oliver thought he could hear his mother’s disappointed sighs, her measured tones.Other times he could hear her words of love.

_Oh, my beautiful boy. This is just a temporary setback.Don’t lose sight of who you are and what that means. _

_Another school? Sometimes I wonder if we have done you a disservice by being so permissive. But you’ll find your way.Of that, I have no doubt._

No, Malcolm Merlyn may have told him that the dead can’t talk, but the way Oliver figured it, if they could, Moira Queen would surely be doing more than talking.She’d be haunting his father.

_Really, Robert?A Las Vegas cocktail waitress? How… quaint. Though I must commend you for your restraint.After all, she isn’t a stripper._

The thought tugged a slight smile from Oliver. 

How he missed her!Even when Moira Queen expressed disapproval with him, he never doubted her devotion.It just—it just felt like everyone wanted him to be something he wasn’t or something he didn’t want to be.His father wanted Oliver to be a carbon copy of himself, his friends wanted happy-go-lucky life-of-the-party Ollie, and girls had stars in their eyes.They either wanted to tame him or trap him.Maybe a bit of both.

Donna had seemed nice enough, albeit a little unpolished.Make that very unpolished.What she lacked in propriety and gravitas, she compensated with the enthusiasm of a game show contestant—or maybe a puppy.She was trying so hard to smooth things over between the two Queen men, but one dinner would not unravel years of conflict. She was in over her head and did not even have a clue.

And this was his new stepmother.Starling City high society was going to eat her alive, all without getting a hair out of place.

What would this marriage mean for his place in the company?Already his father was trying to plant his new step-daughter in the family seat. Oliver wasn’t stupid; he knew exactly what his dad was doing:using Felicity as a way to “motivate” him, get him to fall in line.Dangling her like a carrot._Do what I want, son, or I’ll get the newer, smarter model._

Felicity.

_The girl from the coffee shop._She had mentioned off-handedly that she had a nickname for him, Loverboy.He’d had one for her, too: Sunshine. Oliver had noticed her for months—she surreptitiously watched him all while trying to pretend she didn’t know he existed—and he’d been alternately amused by her quirky behavior and attracted by her understated beauty.She wasn’t obvious the way the girls he usually dated were, and she wasn’t one of the frigid, well-bred debutantes that his mother used to attempt to match him with.She was different, fascinatingly so. There was a light about her that he couldn’t quite explain.It just_ was._

He had blown it with her—been an absolute idiot, if he was being honest with himself—when he’d started drinking so early the day of the party. And then he had compounded that by acting like an absolute dog earlier at the restaurant.He shook his head ruefully.He didn’t have alcohol as an excuse for being an asshole.He was angry and frustrated and … he exhaled. 

Just as well.The less he saw of her, the better.If she were as smart as his dad seemed to think, she would stay far away. This situation had Shakespearean drama written all over it—he wasn’t sure which one—but one of them had to apply, right?

His phone buzzed again.

Giving in to the temptation, Oliver finally looked at the screen.A message from Tommy. He pushed aside his class notes.It’s not like he was concentrating on studying anyway.

TM:Link to A New Queen in Town?

Oliver felt his stomach knotting as he clicked on the link Tommy sent that took him to an article on _The Starling City Star_’s website.He was greeted by a picture of his father with his arm around Donna Smoak’s waist and her beaming up at him happily.Both wore attire appropriate for a beachy, tropical getaway.

> posted 1 hour ago
> 
> _A New Queen in Town?_
> 
> _Though unconfirmed, sources are reporting that Robert Queen, CEO and founder of Queen Consolidated has married.Three years after the accident that claimed the lives of his wife Moira Dearden Queen, and their daughter, Thea, Queen has apparently quietly married hospitality specialist Donna Smoak, formerly of Las Vegas, Nevada._
> 
> _“He’s a different man when he’s around her.The heaviness is lifted,” a source close to Mr. Queen stated.“She’s something else.”_
> 
> _A Queen family spokesman declined to comment._

TM:I hear congratulations are in order?

Oliver fought back a growl of annoyance.

OQ:That’s the optimistic version.But we both know you’re not going to congratulate me.

TM:You know me well.

TM:She does NOT look like any wicked stepmother I’ve ever seen.   
TM: Seriously.Where did he find HER?

OQ:Las Vegas.

TM:You.Me.We’re going to Vegas ASAP.If that’s what the MILFs look like, then…

OQ:Can’t.I hear there’s a one-cocktail-waitress-per-family quota.

TM: Then it’s my family’s turn.    
TM: What’s she like?

OQ: Seems friendly.

TM: You going to give her hell?

_Good question_.He had been so stunned by his father’s surprise marriage, especially considering he didn’t know that Donna existed three hours prior, he had minded his manners and been a paragon of virtue—at least as far as his father and the new Mrs. Queen could tell.

OQ:Depends on whether she causes trouble for me.

TM:Could be worse.You could be calling Isabel mommy.

Oliver’s stomach twisted, and he sent a vomiting emoji in response before he texted:

OQ: Dad was never going to marry Isabel.

TM: She was sure he would.

OQ:She was delusional.

TM: You okay with everything?

Oliver swallowed hard.Was he okay? No.Was he going to be? That depended.Was he really going to have to fight for his birthright, or was his dad bluffing?

OQ:Fine.Just trying to study.

TM:You need more fun in your life.

OQ: Last final is tomorrow.Then I’ll think about having fun.

TM:When will you be back?

OQ: A few days.

TM:Still planning to work at QC this summer?

OQ:That’s what I’m told.

TM: Sounds exciting. (eye roll)  
TM: I think we should travel instead.

OQ: If by travel, you mean go to work…

TM:What do you even have to work for?

OQ: My dad keeps reminding me I can’t always expect everything to be handed to me.

TM:Mine, too, but I maintain my high expectations.

OQ:I’ve got to study.

TM:All work and no play . . .

OQ: Later, Tommy.

Oliver tossed his phone aside.Maybe Tommy had a point._All work and no play_ . . . Except for a few parties here or there, Oliver had been nose-to-the-grindstone, trying to make up for wasted time—and times when he was wasted. 

Not that his father noticed that he was actually trying.Now he understood why.

But this summer was his chance to prove himself.No matter how hot his new step-sister was, there was no way he was going to let her interfere with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to all who are reading and have left comments. I have been remiss in responding as of late because work and life are kicking my tail, but I do want you to know how much I appreciate you!


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

“What do you really know about him? Other than he has expensive taste in cars, evidently?” Felicity asked her mom as Donna drove them from the airport to her new home—or at least it would be home until she started working and rented an apartment. Two weeks had passed since the dinner with her mom, Robert, and Oliver. In those two weeks, she had defended her Master’s thesis, graduated with honors, packed her belongings from her shared apartment in Cambridge, and trekked across the country.

Donna glanced over at her daughter in the passenger seat, her long “I know that he makes me happy. For the first time in a long time, I don’t have to worry.”

“Mom, that’s not love. That’s security.”

“Sometimes love _is_security. But it’s not about the money. He treats me well. He’s a gentleman. He is genuinely interested in what I think and feel. I’m not just arm candy for him.” She pursed her bright red lips together. “Felicity, I thought we were past this.”

“I don't mean to question your relationship.”

“Felicity.” Donna’s one word warning made Felicity shrink in her seat. No matter how old she got, all it took was _that_tone.

“Okay, maybe I do. It was just so sudden,” Felicity blurted out.

“Haven’t you ever just met someone, and you couldn’t get him out of your mind?”

Had she ever! Though she suspected that her intense reaction to her new stepbrother wasn’t quite what her mom had in mind. It just wasn’t fair that when she closed her eyes at night, she had to keep seeing him. That smug, gorgeous face winking at her. Those long fingers stroking her. Only in her dreams, she isn’t wearing panties, and she doesn’t stop him from penetrating her.

What would it be like? She shook her head, trying to clear her mind. Obviously, it was never, ever going to happen between them. She didn’t even want anything to happen. _At all. _Not even a handshake.

“How have you been feeling?” Felicity asked, changing the subject.

“Tired. This pregnancy is so different from when I was twenty and expecting you, but Robert pampers me. He wanted me to have the driver pick you up, but I just couldn’t wait to see you.”

It was surreal to think that she was going to have a little brother or sister in about six months. She had always been an only child, and now she had this whole new family. 

“Have you been picking out names?”

“A few, but it’s still early.”

The conversation between the two dissolved into inconsequential topics, and Felicity found her attention drifting.

“…And the house is basically a castle,” Donna added as she turned off the main road and stopped at a large iron gate flanked by stone pillars and what had to be a twelve foot fence. She smiled at the camera, which moved to fix upon the car, and the gate opened.

Felicity’s eyes widened as they wound up the curving drive and she saw the Queen Mansion for the first time. For once, her mother’s description wasn’t an exaggeration.

“It’s huge!”

“I know, right?” her mom replied with a laugh. “I still get lost sometimes. Robert had to draw me a map. It even has a maid's quarters! But you'll get used to it, really.”

“There's a maid?” 

“A staff of them, but the head housekeeper is Raisa. She’s been with the family a long time. Since Ollie was a little boy, I think. To be honest, I was so nervous about meeting her. Maybe even more nervous about meeting her than I was about meeting anyone else in Robert’s life. But she’s wonderful. She even lets me into the kitchen without getting territorial. I kind of like cooking for Robert, but he never asks me to get him cocktails. That’s how I know he’s a keeper,” Donna prattled.

“What do you _do _all day?”

“_I _have started volunteering, and I’m thinking of joining some charitable boards,” Donna replied with exaggerated nonchalance before breaking into a squeal of laughter. “Can you believe I am now a lady who lunches?”

That was the Donna Smoak—correction, Donna Queen—that Felicity knew. Vivacious, flamboyant, one of a kind. Felicity tried to imagine her mother with the stuffy, upper echelon of society, where everyone had to fit a mold. They probably had absolutely no idea of what to do with her mom, but if Robert Queen was as big of a deal as Felicity thought he must be, they didn’t dare shun her.

Rather than parking the car in the garage, Donna stopped the vehicle in the front circle drive. “We’ll send someone for your bags. Come on!”

“I’m going to break something,” Felicity murmured as they walked in and her eyes took in the sights. Polished wood paneling, a winding double-staircase, magnificent chandeliers, and sumptuous rugs—it was almost too much to take in. Some of the sculptures and paintings on display were likely museum quality.

“Let me take you on a tour.”

Donna led Felicity around the house for over an hour, showing her the ballroom, banquet hall, swimming pool, solarium, several sitting rooms, the gourmet kitchen, a family room that was more intimate but still far more grand than anyplace Felicity had ever been. Finally, her mom led her to the family wing of bedrooms. Felicity’s head was still swimming at the lavishness of the home. She wasn’t a stranger to seeing extravagance. She had, after all, grown up in Las Vegas. But this was elegant and classy, not the gaudy showmanship of Sin City.

As they walked down the plush, carpeted hallway, Felicity was alarmed to realize that she could actually smell Oliver. It was just the faintest hint of the cologne she had detected when they met at the coffee shop, but it was enough to bring back everything—the anticipation, the intrigue, the attraction. Not that the attraction had ever really gone away.

_Please go away._

He must have been nearby. Dread filled her. Two weeks of separation had not been long enough. She had time to consider their interaction at the restaurant, how he touched her leg so intimately, how he pushed her buttons. But this wasn’t _Game of Thrones_, and the last thing she wanted for herself was to get sucked into some weird pseudo incestuous flirtation or worse. 

“Here's Ollie's room,” her mom said as they passed a partially open door. “He's out somewhere right now. Working out, I think.”

“He must do that a lot.” The words escaped Felicity’s mouth before she could reel them in.

Her mom laughed lightly. “I’d say so. He’s only been home a few days, and we’ve not seen much of him.”

Felicity let out a shuddering breath of relief that her mom didn’t call her out on her attraction to him. Maybe it wasn’t as obvious as she thought, but she couldn’t shake the sense that there may as well have been neon lights following her around that spelled out, “Felicity Smoak has the hots for her stepbrother.” She wished she could turn off the part of her body that was attracted to him. If anything, though, her sex dreams about him had become more frequent and more alarming ever since he laid his hand on her thigh. He disgusted her, and yet…it made no sense.

“And here's your room.”

She couldn’t believe it was directly next to Oliver's room. There were so many rooms in the mansion, couldn’t there have been more separation? The situation only intensified her resolve to remedy her unemployment quickly so she could get the separation she so obviously needed.

“Oh Google,” Felicity said as she pushed the door open. The room was stunning. A large, hand-carved four-poster bed was situated in the center of the chamber. Complementary pieces—nightstands, a bureau, a desk, and an overstuffed chair with throw pillows—comprised the remainder of the furniture. The high, coffered ceilings featured more of the polished woodwork that made up so much of the detailing of the home. Her bags were already awaiting her.

Felicity found herself gravitating to the window, especially when she saw the window seat. “The perfect reading nook.”

“I thought you would like it.”

Drawing back the billowy curtains, her breath caught as she stared out at the spectacular view of the estate grounds below—lush green grass, perfectly manicured trees, a small, pristine lake. The house was clearly built to play up the amazing location.

Felicity glanced to her left. “Is that my own bathroom?”

“Yep— no more sharing with roommates!” Donna replied cheerfully.

Felicity stepped inside and admired the all-white marble tile of the shower and huge, claw-foot tub.

“Are you hungry?” her mom asked from the bedroom.

“A little.” A lot. When was the last time she ate? Oh, that’s right. Last night when Vanessa and Jenn took her out for one last hurrah.

“Okay, I'll whip something up. You stay here and get settled. I'll be in the kitchen when you're ready to eat.”

Felicity frowned. What were the chances they would have to send a search party when she got lost searching for the kitchen? 

She ran her fingers along the Calcutta marble vanity top before going back to the bedroom. She found herself gravitating toward the window seat. Kicking off her panda flats, she sank onto the window seat, taking in the view. She didn’t want to get too used to being there or too comfortable. This might be her mom’s new existence, but it wasn’t hers. As soon as she got settled into a job, wherever that took her, she would be leaving this house and its accoutrements.

But what a beautiful view! In Las Vegas, beyond the artificial oasis of the city, the landscape was stark, brown, dead feeling. Boston certainly had its charm, but it felt so closed in. _This _was wide-open, green, full of life. She couldn’t get over the water. The sun shimmered off the lake, as though a million diamonds shone on its surface. It wasn’t a large lake, as far as lakes go, but the Queens had their own lake! She definitely intended to explore her surroundings while she was there.

The movement of a figure on the grounds broke her thoughts. She recognized Oliver, even from that distance. He was running, and from the looks of him, he’d been at it awhile. His longish sandy hair was plastered to his head, darkened by sweat. For that matter, his shirt clung to his body almost like a second skin, outlining every muscle. She jumped slightly as he stopped near the water’s edge, seeming to catch his breath, and then looked up toward the house in her direction.

Felicity quickly ducked, then laughed at herself. There was no way that Oliver saw her. The house was huge, and for him to be looking at her exact window? Just…no. And even if he did see her, so what? It’s not like she was trying to spy on him.

She looked out the window again and saw that he had peeled off his shirt and shoes and was walking out onto the wooden dock. His back was to her, affording her a glimpse of his muscular shoulders and trim waist before he dived off the end. He stayed down a few seconds before re-emerging, his arms cutting cleanly through the water as he swam in a way that made his movements look both effortless and graceful. 

It was too bad she had never learned to swim. She wouldn’t mind a closer look…

“Your food’s ready,” Donna’s voice cut through Felicity’s thoughts.

She startled a bit as she turned around and saw her mother standing in the doorway. “I thought I was meeting you in the kitchen.”

“If you inherited your sense of direction from me, I thought you might have a hard time finding it. C’mon. I want you to meet Raisa. She’s the one who keeps this place running.”

“Sure,” Felicity replied, slipping her shoes back on.

Donna eyed them and shook her head. “I know you definitely didn’t inherit your fashion sense from me.”

“Dad wore panda flats?” Felicity quipped.

“If he had, you wouldn’t be here,” Donna assured her. She patted her still flat belly. “If this little one is a girl, she’ll be wearing Jimmy Choos.”

The two women went down to the kitchen where Raisa had put together a tray of light sandwiches, fresh fruit, and cheese—enough for an army. Evidently, she wouldn’t hear of Donna doing the work when that was what she was there to do. Donna introduced them. Immediately, Felicity could see the kindness in the older woman’s eyes, and she felt more at ease.

“Mrs. Queen has told me all about you, Miss Felicity. I’m so glad you are with us. Anything you need, anything at all, you let me know,” Raisa said warmly.

“I really appreciate it.”

“I made sure to tell Raisa that you can’t have anything with nuts,” Donna said.

“Thanks,” Felicity replied.

“Of course. The last thing we’d want is a repeat of that brownie disaster from your freshman year.”

“I don’t even want to think of that!” Felicity shuddered. At Raisa’s confused look, she elaborated, “My face and hands swelled up like a balloon. I looked like Violet Beauregarde.”

“You almost died!” Donna huffed.

“There was that.” Felicity turned when she caught movement from the corner of her eye. Oliver was padding through the kitchen, shirt and shoes in hand, dripping water everywhere. She made a concerted effort not to stare at him, but it was impossible not to notice the muscles of his broad shoulders or his ridiculously toned stomach. Was it possible to grate cheese on his abs?

Look away. 

_Look away_!

“Mister Oliver, the pool is a perfect 85 degrees year-round, and you insist on jumping in that cold lake, tracking filthy water all over my clean floors!” Raisa gently scolded him.

Oliver gave the older woman a quick kiss on her temple. “You know you missed me.”

“Always when you are gone,” Raisa assured him. “You are a good boy.”

“I don’t know about _that_.” Oliver looked to Felicity. “So that _was_you I saw watching me from the window.”

“I wasn’t watching you. I was looking out the window when you happened to run by. Very…sweaty.”

He eyed the tray of food. “You going to eat all that?”

“Help yourself,” she replied.

Oliver removed a sandwich from the tray—a perfect, crustless turkey and spinach—set it on the marble countertop, and picked up the entire tray with his free hand. “Thanks.” With that, he ambled toward the hallway but stopped, tray of food still in hand. “Oh, I almost forgot, I’m having a guest for dinner tonight, Raisa.”

“A young woman? Does she have any dietary restrictions?” she asked, knowing Oliver well enough that she did not wait for confirmation that his companion was a female.

“It’s Sara. I know it’s last minute, but is there any chance you can whip up that sautéed mushroom with braised chicken dish she likes?”

Raisa looked to Donna. “Would that be acceptable, Mrs. Queen?”

It took Donna a moment to realize that Raisa was asking her for authorization. “Oh,” she fluttered, “it sounds delicious.” She turned to Oliver and smiled broadly. “So…is Sara someone special?”

“Sara’s an old friend. She and I used to date. We like to reconnect when I’m home from school.”

Felicity rolled her eyes. Reconnect? Interesting euphemism. Just _wow_.

“Did you say something, Felicity?” Oliver asked, looking at her with feigned innocence.

Had she? Sometimes her brain-to-mouth filter failed spectacularly, but this time, she was pretty sure she’d kept her thoughts to herself. “You must be getting swimmer’s ear. You really should take better care of yourself.”

* * *

Some time later, Felicity had managed to find her way back to her bedroom and had decided to use the time between lunch and dinner to study up on Queen Consolidated’s latest projects. Her interview was scheduled for 9:00 a.m. Monday, and to say she was nervous would be like saying that the Pacific is deep or that decaf coffee should be outlawed. _Duh_.

She heard a knock on her door, but before she even had the chance to answer it, the door swung open. Oliver walked in. That was not at all whom she expected to see. “You busy?”

“Please, by all means, come in,” she said wryly. “And, yes, I am a little busy.”

He had since taken a shower and dressed—khaki pants and a charcoal colored Henley shirt. His longish hair fell across his forehead, and he brushed it away with his hand, making her wonder what he would look like with a shorter haircut rather than this boy band meets frat boy look he had going on. Ridiculous, she silently chastised herself, watching as he picked the portfolio she had been poring over and flipped through the pages. “What are you doing?”

“Studying,” she replied, feeling her ire rise.

“Isn’t the whole point of graduating to not have to study anymore? My brain is _still _fried from finals week.”

She stood and snatched the portfolio from his hands. “If you must know, I have a job interview at QC on Monday. I want to impress.”

“Sounds more like you want to stress,” he commented.

She shook her head in disbelief. Of course he didn’t get it. Had Oliver Queen ever been forced to work at anything in his whole life? “I only get one shot at this. I have to make sure I know as much about the company as possible.”

“It just seems to me that you’re going to a lot of trouble for a job that you _know _is yours if you want it.”

“I meant what I said to your father back in Boston. I don’t want preferential treatment; I want to get the job on my own merits.”

Oliver shoved his hands in his pockets. “You’re going to force me to up my game.” He said it jokingly, but she couldn’t help but think there was more going on than what he said.

“What do you mean?”

But he sidestepped. “Let’s say you get this job. Word is going to eventually get around about who you are. You will be the boss’s step-daughter, the can-do Girl Scout.”

“I was never a Girl Scout,” Felicity interjected.

“Seems to me you’re going to have some who will hate you or, you know, at the very least question your qualifications for what they perceive as taking the easy road—working for a company owned by your step-father. You also seem to have some pretty strong opinions about the innovation—or lack thereof—in QC. So you’ll have others whose feathers will be ruffled because your very drive and success might be measured by overturning the old guard.”

Her eyes narrowed. “And what would _you _like to see happen in QC?”

“I’ve got a whole lifetime ahead of me to worry about QC. At this point, I don’t really care, but working there for the summer gets my dad off my back.”

She didn’t buy that for a second, but she was willing to play along. “Oh. So that’s what this is about. If I work there, you don’t think you can measure up.”

“It’s not a matter of measuring up. I’m going to be the CEO one day, not technical support. But if you’re there, I’ll never hear the end of it. You’re going to make me have to actually take this summer job at QC seriously.”

“Maybe you _should _up your game. There’s nothing wrong with taking your job seriously. Aren’t you a little old for a frat boy mentality?”

“And aren’t you a little young to act like my grandma? It would make both of our lives a hell of a lot easier if you would pick a job—any job—at another company.”

“Oh, by all means, let me put _my _life’s ambitions on hold to accommodate _you_.” She huffed out a breath in annoyance. “Anything else? I have things to do.”

“Believe it or not, I actually came here to apologize. I acted like an ass.”

Her hands went to her hips. “Which time? Just now, or the time you stole my lunch…”

“That was two hours ago, you told me to help myself, and you obviously weren’t going to eat all of it.”

“How do you know? Maybe I have a voracious appetite.”

His eyes perused her body appreciatively. “Maybe you do.”

Noting his gaze, her frown deepened. Was he seriously _flirting _with her? “Well, I was hungry.”

“_However _did you survive?” he asked with mock concern. “But I am sorry.”

“Fine. But you kind of have a track record for being a jerk. What about the time you got handsy with me in that restaurant in Boston?”

“I’m not sure an apology is in order for that one. You skewered me with a fork.”

“_Nearly _skewered,” Felicity corrected, “and you had it coming.”

“Much more, and you would have been the one who had it coming.” With the lifting of his right eyebrow and the lascivious grin, Ollie walked past Felicity to the window seat, looking out at the grounds below.

Felicity huffed in annoyance. “Not even close. You’re not nearly as smooth as you mistakenly seem to think.”

He took a step forward, challenging her assertion. “You have no idea how smooth I can be.”

“Oh? Was it smooth when you invited me to a party only to have another girl in your bed when I got there? If smooth means tacky, then sure, we can go with that.”

“Did I miss the part where we entered into an exclusive relationship?” he asked, though from his tone, she didn’t think he would have cared if they had. “Was it somewhere between the coffee and the scone?”

“It’s just common courtesy.”

“You didn’t even commit to coming to the party,” he defended. “Look, I’m sorry if you got your feelings hurt, but I’m not going to apologize for having a sex life. I enjoy sex. As long as I’m safe and I’m upfront with the girl I’m with that there’s only a happy ending and no happily ever after, what’s the big deal?”

“You…ugh…suggested I join the two of you.” 

At that, Ollie had the good sense to look abashed, and some of that arrogant bravado melted away. “Not one of my best moments. In my defense, I was drunk off my ass and you were admiring the view, but I’ll concede it wasn’t very respectful to either you or…” He froze. What was that other girl’s name? He seemed to realize that he was drawing a blank and pivoted the subject, “and I didn’t know that our parents...” he shook his head. “This still doesn’t seem real.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Were you as surprised as I was?”

Felicity was taken aback by his seeming candor, almost as though he was confiding in her. It felt oddly satisfying to talk with someone who knew exactly what their unusual situation was like. “I—yes. I had a feeling my mom was seeing someone because she’d been sounding so upbeat, but…”

“Could I ask you something?”

“You can ask.” Her tone suggested that she might not answer.

“Where’s your dad?”

Felicity’s expression hardened. “Don’t know. Don’t care.” Her response was clipped.

“That’s harsh. You _really _don’t even know where he is?”

Was he just looking for ammunition? “Before you turn this around to be something to hold over my mom…”

He held up his hands, as though to show he didn’t have any proverbial weapons. “I’m not looking to sabotage your mom, Felicity. She seems nice. My dad’s happy for the first time in a long time. I don’t begrudge them that.”

“Good. Because if you do anything to hurt my mom, I _will _hurt you. I’m talking terror watch lists, freezing bank accounts, and creative things I haven’t dreamed up yet but will because this mind is kind of dangerous. I don’t forgive _or _forget easily.”

At that, he smiled widely, his blue eyes twinkling in amusement. “‘Though she be but little, she is fierce.’ I’ll have to remember that.” He seemed impressed by that. Almost. “Fair is fair. Aren’t you going to ask me about my mom?” Oliver prodded.

“I already know she’s dead,” Felicity dismissed with her hand. Just as quickly as the words came out of her mouth, she squeezed her eyes shut in horror. “I am _so_sorry. I meant, I know that she had an accident. My brain thinks of the worst way to say things. And the Word Vomit of the Year Award goes to me.”

“It’s…okay.”

“No, it’s not.”

“It’s been awhile.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked away from her. “I’ve had time to get used to the idea. Three Fridays ago marked the three year anniversary. She and my little sister...” his voice trailed off.

_Three weeks ago_. Felicity mentally calculated. That was around the time of the frat party from hell. Was that why Oliver was drunk that night?

“Thea—that’s my sister—would be about to celebrate her thirteenth birthday on the 18th, and I’m sure my mom would be trying to throw a party and control every aspect of…” he stopped abruptly. “Doesn’t matter. So, did you leave anything out?”

“Leave anything out?” she asked, not following his train of thought.

“Of your list of grievances that I should apologize for.”

“No, I think that about covers it, unless—I don’t know—should I throw in using me to cut in line at the coffee shop?”

“That one—I’m not going to apologize for. It wasn’t about the coffee. It was about meeting you. I kind of blew that, though.”

“Maybe it’s for the best,” she suggested. “Things could be _really _awkward right now. Well, more awkward than they are.”

“You won’t get hear any arguments from me. Your mom, my dad…” his teeth grazed over his lips. 

But she could have sworn she heard a twinge of disappointment in his tone.


	5. Chapter Five

**Chapter Five**

Felicity pushed the chicken and sautéed mushrooms around her plate as she tried not to watch Oliver drape his arm around the back of Sara's chair. Sara Lance was pretty with striking blue eyes framed by expressive brows and a patch of freckles across her nose and cheeks that only enhanced her beauty. Her graceful, athletic body made her look like a cross between a yoga instructor and a dancer—very pretty in a way that showcased strength. And dang it, she was also nice. Felicity wished Sara was one of those mean girls so she could hate her for a good reason, but then it wouldn’t make sense to hate her, would it? Because that would mean she was just jealous, and there was nothing to be jealous of. Oliver was no catch, and she wouldn’t be fishing for him anyway, and…

“Felicity?” Robert asked.

“I’m sorry. I think the fish is catching up with me. I mean the trip. What did you say?”

“I asked if you were finding everything okay.”

“I—yes.” She shook her head slightly, feeling like she was stumbling over her own tongue. “I appreciate you for letting me stay while I’m getting my bearings.”

“Of course. You’re family now.”

At that, Oliver cleared his throat, which drew a look from his father. Oliver’s response was to take a gulp from his water glass.

“Felicity, are you a student?” Sara asked.

“I actually just graduated.”

“She’s being modest,” Robert explained. “Felicity just finished graduate school at MIT.”

Sara’s eyes widened. “Mad props. You don’t look old enough to be a graduate student.”

“I started early,” Felicity supplied, feeling her cheeks coloring. Being the center of attention never was something she enjoyed.

“Wow. I’m a fifth year senior at Starling City U. I’ve supported myself through school, _and_ I’ve taken a few detours,” Sara admitted. She turned to Oliver, “Looks like we have something else in common now. We both have overachieving sisters. My sister just finished her first year of law school.”

“Felicity’s _not _my sister,” Oliver said crisply.

Sara was flustered. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean--I wasn’t thinking. Of course she’s not.”

Felicity felt voyeuristic as she watched this exchange, torn between annoyance (“_She”_ is right here, thank you very much) and something else she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

Oliver shook his head slightly, checking himself. “No, I’m the one who’s sorry. I know you didn’t mean anything by it.”

“So, Sara, how long did you and Ollie date?” Donna asked, trying to break the tension.

“Which time?” Sara smiled, revealing adorable dimples. “Well, it was on and off, so… hard to say. Ollie actually went to prom with my sister Laurel,” she replied, jokingly nudging Oliver, who at least had the good graces to look uncomfortable. “Like I said, an overachiever.”

Robert shook his head admonishingly.

“Oh, it’s all ancient history,” Sara replied with a smile. “I went with Tommy.”

“Tommy?” Donna asked.

“Tommy Merlyn, Malcolm’s son and Ollie’s best friend,” Robert explained.

“Oh, yes. Malcolm.” Donna's voice flattened.

Felicity caught the strange tone in her mother's voice. _What was _that_ all about?_

If he noticed his bride's reaction, Robert did not let on. “You’ve not met Tommy yet, but I’m sure now that Ollie’s back for the summer, he won’t be far behind.”

“You’ll really like Tommy,” Sara said, turning to Felicity. “He’s the nicest guy.”

“Tommy would be heartbroken if he heard you call him that,” Ollie said with a smile. How many times had he heard his friend utter ‘nice guys finish last’? “Tommy and I have been friends for as long as I can remember.”

“Right. Longer than even you and I have been friends.” Sara looked to Donna, even as she patted Oliver’s leg. “This one’s the one who got away. I think we both knew it wasn't meant to be, but we do make excellent…friends.”

“But friendship is an excellent basis for a relationship,” Donna offered, resting her fork on her plate. “I read an article recently that said that the most successful long-term marriages aren’t based on lust but on compatibility and friendship.”

Sara and Oliver both shifted uncomfortably in their chairs, looked at each other, smiled, and looked away. They were friends, yes, but it was evident what the foundation of their friendship was.

“Were you dating anyone at school, Felicity?” Robert asked.

“No one special,” Felicity demurred. Why was it that people who were in relationships always wanted to prod the people who weren’t?

“What about that boy from the coffee shop?” Donna asked.

Felicity’s face burned as she shot her mom the stink-eye. Seriously? It was bad enough that she had to eat dinner with Oliver and his beneficial friend, but this? Weren’t they overdue for an earthquake or something? Perhaps now would be the perfect time. A nice, wide hole could open, swallow her up, and end her misery right then and there. But, of course, she wouldn’t be that lucky. So she opted to lie. She wasn’t proud of it, and lying was never her first choice (or her strong suit) but desperate times called for desperate measures, and the last ounce of pride she had was begging to be saved.

“Oh, you mean Greg, the barista. We flirted a bit, but I think he flirted with all the girls. Better tips that way.”

At that, Oliver’s head shot in her direction. “That’s funny, Felicity. I thought Greg was gay.”

Felicity's eyes narrowed even as Oliver maintained a look of mock innocence. What exactly was he trying to do? “Just my luck, right? They say all the good ones are either taken or gay. Doesn’t mean he can’t flirt.”

_You’re lying_, Oliver said in pantomime, but no one other Felicity seemed to notice.

“Wait a minute,” Donna said tilting her head in a way that reminded Oliver of her daughter. “How would you know this barista Greg, Oliver?”

Without missing a beat, Oliver supplied, “Felicity and I were comparing notes earlier today. Turns out we actually frequented some of the same places and knew some of the same people.”

“What a small world! And to think you two never ran into each other.”

“It _is_ a small world,” Oliver replied, weaving his tale even further. “I guess Felicity was distracted by Greg. She probably wouldn’t have even noticed me if we did happen to be in the same place at the same time.”

“Oliver, you have to promise me that you will introduce Felicity to some nice young men.”

“Mom!” Felicity said sharply.

“What? You’ve spent your life with your nose in the books. You should go out, have fun, act your age.”

“It’s funny you mention that, Donna. I was telling Felicity the same thing earlier,” Oliver said, smugly.

“Who wants dessert?” Felicity asked, the question a desperation-move. Taking that as a cue, the wait staff began bringing out the last course. From the corner of her eye, she could see Oliver leaning over and whispering something into Sara’s ear. She didn’t say anything in response, but Felicity did notice that she ran her thumb along the palm of Oliver’s hand and winked.

Oh good Google. They were going to want to go off somewhere after this and have sex, Felicity realized. She hoped the walls were thick. The last thing she wanted to hear was the two of them going at it.

The dessert course was served, and within a few minutes, Oliver and Sara stood up to leave.

“Thank you so much for having me for dinner tonight, Mr. and Mrs. Queen,” Sara said politely.

“You’re always welcome here, Sara,” Robert replied.

“I’ll second that. It was lovely to meet you,” Donna added.

“Ollie, before you take off, could I have a word with you?” Robert asked.

“Of course,” Oliver responded to his father before turning to his blonde companion. “I won’t be long.”

“I’ll be fine,” Sara assured him.

“Excuse me,” Donna said. “I’m going to head to the little girl’s room. I’d forgotten how preg--” She caught herself before finishing the thought, not quite ready to make a formal announcement. “Excuse me.”

With that, her mom left, but Felicity barely noticed, her attention instead on the two Queen men.

Robert and Oliver walked to the anteroom adjacent to the dining room. Felicity couldn’t help but follow them with her eyes. Their voices were low, but whatever was being said, Oliver didn’t look happy about it. What could _that _be about?

Sara’s words interrupted Felicity’s would-be snooping. “You really are gorgeous. I have to know—what do you use on your skin?”

Felicity was taken aback. “I— what? Oh, um…soap?” Her response came out more as a question. Oh man, Sara really made it difficult to hate her.

“Soap?!? That’s it? You are so lucky. I have this whole routine,” Sara said, laughing at herself. “My sister and I both—if you were to come to our house before bedtime—you’d think we were some kind of monsters. At least, that’s what our dad says. We use this green goop. It’s supposed to keep the pores clear, but it’s a pain.”

“I guess I'll be seeing you around often?” Felicity asked, but Sara looked perplexed. “Because you and Oliver are dating,” she finished.

“We’re not being coy. We really aren’t dating,” Sara confided. “He's not the type, and I gave up hope years ago. Decided to broaden my horizons. But just look at him— can you blame me for coming back from time to time?” she asked with a grin, then her eyes widened. “Oh my gosh— sorry! I forgot for a second that he's kind of your brother now. That must seem gross to you to think of him doing _that_.”

“Step-brother,” Felicity corrected her. “And you’re right. I don’t really want to think about it. Well, I'm going to head upstairs. It was nice to meet you, Sara.”

“You, too,” she replied. “Hey, maybe we can get together sometime. I can show you around, introduce you to people.”

“That’s really nice. Thanks.” But Felicity left without any firm plans, not entirely certain that was what she wanted. The less she was around Oliver and his social set, the better. Maybe she _should_ do what he suggested and find a job someplace other than QC—anyplace that would take her far, far away would be preferable at this point.

She headed toward the double-staircase of the foyer, thinking how unalike the runs of steps were from the two roads that diverged in a yellow wood from Robert Frost’s poem. These led her to the same place—her bedroom that was right next to Oliver’s. And pretty soon, his bedroom would have two occupants.

Why did she care? It was ridiculous. He was nothing to her. Nothing but a thorn in her side, a fly in her latte, a metaphorical virus on her computer.

She made it up a couple of steps when she rethought her decision to go to her room. Hopefully, Oliver and Sara’s sexcapades would be quick. _Speedy_, like his tattoo said. Maybe the tattoo was too on the nose. Was that his nickname? Maybe he was called Speedy because he had erectile dysfunction and went too fast. A wicked smile curled on her lips at the thought. In the meantime, she would explore the grounds. It wasn’t like she was going to be able to concentrate on prepping for her interview if Oliver and his “friend” were enjoying the benefits of their friendship next door to her.

* * *

As she made her way outside, the last vestiges of the setting sun cast a golden glow on the landscape. She gravitated toward the lake, which looked like it had a million diamonds dancing on its surface as the sun sank lower in the sky. She walked to the end of the dock and sat, dangling her legs over the side. Her legs were too short to reach the water, but it still felt _nice_, as though for a few brief minutes her life could be less complicated somehow.

_Don’t get too used to this_, she reminded herself. This might be her mother’s life, but it wasn’t hers.

For that matter, she still had a difficult time imagining how her mother would fare well in the Queen social set. Donna was vivacious, straightforward, and had the most giving heart, but she wasn’t cultured and she certainly didn’t come from old money—or any money. As much as the extravagance made Felicity uncomfortable, she had the benefit of an education, something that her mom had sacrificed so that she could put food on the table when Felicity was little and her dad left.

This was her second chance. A husband who seems to adore her. A baby on the way. No worries about money. It was what her mother had deserved all along. The least she could do was try to get along with Oliver.

Before Felicity knew it, the golden glow faded into purple shadows. How long had she been sitting at the water’s edge? She turned back to the house, which was easy to see in its splendor. But what door had she come out?

She headed back toward the general area in which she had come out and thought she found the right door, but when she tried to open it, it wouldn’t budge. Just her luck. She pulled her cell phone from her back pocket and dialed her mom’s number, but she received no response. She really needed to program other people’s numbers into her phone. Robert. The house’s landline.

Okay. There had to be other doors. If nothing else, surely she could make her way around to the front door, and one of the staff would let her in. Either that, or security would try to have her arrested for skulking around.

She began to circle around and came upon an outdoor entertaining area--a stone patio, flanked with various statues, flowering shrubs, and seating. At the center was a pristine pool—the one that Raisa had referenced earlier—that really made her wish she knew how to swim. The ambient lighting from the pool reflected on the area around, giving the impression of an other-worldly, rippling effect. Perhaps those doors would be open.

She caught movement—at first thinking it was the light from the pool—but the movement rose and fell. A moan of pleasure followed. On the edge of the patio, partially obscured by shadows, Oliver sat lounged in a chair. And there was a topless Sara before him, on her knees, her head bobbing up and down as she took him in her mouth, all the while he directed her with his hands buried in her hair.

Felicity froze for a moment, feeling as immovable as one of the statues that adorned the landscape. _Look away. Get out of here! What are you doing?!?_ And yet, her feet wouldn’t budge.

Could she make it past them without their noticing? Should she go back the way she came and work her way around the house from the other direction?

Sara moved away from Oliver, standing, even as he slid off the chair and emerged from the shadows, his hands circling her waist before moving to the button of her jeans.

Holy moly. She caught a glimpse of his erection. What would it be like to be Sara in that moment? His hands on her, their eyes meeting, knowing that their bodies would soon be joined? He would fill her, move within her, touch her… Felicity's eyes squeezed shut even as her heart raced.

Get out of here. _Get out of here! _

She stepped back with a jolt as though breaking out of a trance and almost tripped over the hydrangea bush next to her in her hurry to get away. She ran as quickly and quietly as she could, trying to circle around the house from the other direction to find an unlocked door, eager to get away from the scene that was playing before her eyes.

It would take almost another ten minutes of trying doors before she encountered a security guard. Fortunately, he recognized her from earlier in the day when she had arrived with her mother.

Soon she was headed back to her room, where she planned to jump into the bed, pull the covers over her head, and pretend that this wasn’t her life. At least Oliver and Sara hadn’t seen her.

_But what kind of pervert just stands there and watches_? Worse, what kind of woman was she to wish it had been her instead? Oliver Queen was not the type of man she should want for so many reasons—he was an asshole, their parents were married to each other... And yet, she was still drawn to him.

Her cheeks burned with mortification.

She just wanted to forget the evening ever happened.

But as she opened her bedroom door and saw Oliver sitting on the edge of her bed, she knew that was not going to happen.


End file.
